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We couldn’t have possibly known the janitor would return as a scarred ghoul hellbent on murdering teens. And besides, they’re YOUR dreams!
If you think Thanksgiving is a time when we could all come together, you haven’t met my family after I poke and prod.
And I couldn't help but notice the massive collage of wanted photos in front of your fine establishment. I'm here to hunt these bastards down.
It is imperative we observe the appropriate time to ring in the season, as that “ring” is the alarm which awakens Santa from his 11-month slumber.
Many respond just as you have, with eyes glazed over with astonishment and mouths agape, almost asking to be fed more knowledge.
As your mayor I promise to deal with the blights of this city: dozens of unfilled potholes, a lack of affordable housing, and obviously, Greg.
Listen, I can certainly understand your surprise about all this.
Just over and over again, and it’s been like three hours. Or possibly thousands of years, time sort of has no meaning here.
Will it scrape along a Toyota Camry, taking off seven inches of paint and cost the owner hundreds of dollars?
2:00 PM — The girls have worked up an appetite after all the screaming and feces throwing. Head to bottomless brunch.
A single smudge on an otherwise clean French door? No worries! An entire handprint? It’s a crime scene.
But friend, we are far from alone. We share this space with a legion of bugs.